The Spirit of Giving
by AMooPoint
Summary: Henry is overexcited, Regina's not allowed to open her eyes, and Emma is about to win Christmas. Shameless, implausible holiday fluff.


A/N: Hey so this fandom is huge and so much great stuff has been written. Just a heads up that I'm still new and I haven't really been able to read that much yet. While I was jotting this down I felt like it might be something that's been done (probably better) before so please just shoot me a kind heads up if this is stepping on anybody's toes at all.

* * *

The thick skin beneath Regina's fingers trembled, twitched. Out of acknowledgement, not fear. Never fear. She had maimed, slaughtered, ignited, destroyed, and never once had he pulled away. Never once had he flinched. His love had never wavered. His loyalty had never strayed.

Even now, the creature beneath her hand refused to pull away from the danger he surely must sense she posed. Regina had entered the stables with a single purpose. Her sole intent was ending his life. There was simply no way he couldn't feel her wicked resolve. They had always been so connected in that way.

Love. That was why he didn't shy from her touch. Rocinante loved her. Wholly. Unconditionally. Always. And that was to be his downfall. His love for Regina was to be the sole cause of his death.

It made sense. That seemed to be in keeping with tradition.

A shaking hand ran up the side of his neck, pulled through his mane. Deep, brown eyes never left her as she dragged the tips of her fingers across him, working up the courage to go through with her task. The warmth in his gaze, the soft nicker he released as his nose nudged against her shoulder, she was forgiven before the deed had even been done.

She swallowed the thickness that had begun to tether itself in the back of her throat and leaned into the beast, her forehead pressed into him. "I'm so sorry, my friend," she whispered into his neck.

"I wouldn't."

Regina jerked away from the stall and whirled around on whoever had dared to intrude upon the intimate moment. A figure, hooded and cloaked, lingered deeper in the stables, stuck to the shadows. She narrowed her eyes to see them more clearly, but her vision felt hazy, unfocused. Someone was there, no doubt, but it was as though her mind couldn't truly pin down their presence. Like her eyes kept shifting to the side of them, seeing beyond and through.

Whatever. It was no matter. It didn't matter who had come uninvited to her side, only that they had, and for that they would pay.

"I was quite clear I wasn't to be disturbed." And she never was one for giving orders twice, so all the intruder received after that was a scowl and a flick of the wrist.

She waited for the cry of surprise, the sound of cracking bone as the stranger's head snapped backwards. The calming thump of a threat crumbling into a lifeless heap on the floor.

The sounds never came. Her magic merely rolled off of the intruder. Harmless. Weak. Worthless. Regina grit her teeth.

A protective charm. It flowed around the figure. Coddled them in warmth and light. Such simple, aggressive magic from Regina wouldn't work. An overwhelming attack was needed. Something with more finesse, something powerful enough to break through whatever defenses this trespasser had in place.

That she could do.

Hand out, palm up, she willed her magic to life once more. Fire burst forth in her palm, the heat stroking her anger. This would be over in seconds. No mere charm could stop her.

"Wait," the stranger started, hands up in surrender, but Regina paid them no mind.

With one great heave she threw the enchanted flame towards her foe, smirking as it hurtled towards the helpless victim, ripping through the protective charm as though it had never existed in the first place. That was that done then.

Except the stranger's hands were still up, and their palms began to glow as the air hummed with magic. A piercing white light burst forth. Regina drew back at the force of it, blinded for the briefest of moments. Behind her Rocinante whinned his own discomfort, reared back on his hind legs in alarm.

When her vision returned, she found the blurry image of the stranger standing unaffected, her magic dissolved. They appeared completely unharmed, though their voice was strained as they let out a breathy, "Christ,"

"How did you-" Regina started, awed, before her better sense took over. This intruder had quickly morphed from irritating interloper to genuine threat, and she would not let them get the better of her. They would not be given the upper hand, not when she was so close to victory. "Who are you?"

The stranger straightened, covered head held high. "I'm not here to hurt you," they promised. "I'm here to help."

Regina scoffed from the other side of the barn. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

"I have significant interest in your future. I know what you're doing, and I want your curse to succeed. I want to see you settle your score with Snow White."

A trick, surely. An agent of the Kingdom, perhaps. A peasant with access to magic and vengeance on the mind. Regina refused to fall for it. "And what issue do you take with our beloved princess?"

The stranger chuckled. Actually had the nerve to full on laugh. Regina felt the heat of magic sparking in her fingers once more.

"She sings maybe half as well as she thinks she does, her meatloaf can be terribly dry, but none of us are ever allowed to say anything, and she never lets anyone sleep in on the weekends. We work hard, what's the problem with sometimes just-"

Regina blinked at the rambling she only half understood and shook her head. "What?"

The stranger sighed. "I want your curse to succeed," they said again, far more weight to their tone, "and I want you to know that taking the heart of your horse isn't the way to do it. The curse demands more. It won't accept the sacrifice of a pet. This isn't the answer."

"And let me guess," Regina challenged through a sneer, "you know what is?"

It was odd, the way the stranger shifted on their feet. The way their head tilted down, as though they couldn't bring themselves to look upon the queen. If she could make out the face through the shadows, and the hazy veil she now was sure was magic, Regina imagined their lips would be pulled into a frown.

"Rumpelstiltskin created the curse," the stranger muttered at last. "He knows exactly what needs to be done. He'll give you your answer."

Regina lifted her chin, her eyes hard, accusing. "What reason do I have to trust you?"

"None," they returned, and Regina heard the 'but you do' though it the words were never uttered.

And maybe she did. Not the stranger, no. Never them. But the words. The logic. The curse would crave more than a beloved pet, no matter the strength of the bond. There must be more to it. Something deeper. A heftier price. Maleficent's warning went ignored, but not unheard. She wouldn't have fretted so much over something so simple as sacrificing an animal.

Regina took a step towards the stranger and relished in how they stumbled back. "Get off my land," she hissed, and whirled around, storming out of the stables to ponder over how best to get into Rumpelstiltskin's prison unchallenged.

"As you wish, your majesty," And though she missed the low, mocking bow, Regina clearly heard the light tickle of amusement in the stranger's tone.

* * *

"Mom." The sound of Henry's fist pounding on her bedroom door jolted Regina out of the odd, too-real dream.

Regina shook the remnants of her night off. The images sleep had presented her with were hazy, foggy all along the edges, already slipping out of conscious thought. A shudder ran through her and she squinted in the morning light of her room.

"Mom?" came another call, the knocking resumed.

Six fifty-seven, the clock on her bedside read, and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Regina shifted along the mattress and pulled herself up to sit comfortably. "You can come in, Henry."

The door opened and her son's head poked into view. A sheepish smile played on his lips. "Sorry I woke you up."

She shook her head. After everything, Marian returning to whisk Robin away, her sister mysteriously crumbling to dust in a prison cell, and an entire year spent separated from one another, how could her precious boy ever, _ever_ think that she didn't want him bounding into her room on Christmas morning?

Regina had thought she'd lost this. She'd thought that maybe there was too much lingering resentment from the days of Mary Margaret's book. That maybe Henry considered himself too old now for such things. That maybe the Christmas before the Savior first came to town was the last she'd ever experience with her son and she hadn't even known it.

It had never before delighted her so to be wrong.

"Come here," she murmured, arms outstretched.

Henry's smile exploded into a grin and he bounded forward, bursting with excitement in a way he hadn't since he was much younger. She collected him into her embrace and pulled him close. The "Merry Christmas," that was mumbled against her neck was returned, whispered and watery into his hair.

She sniffed quietly before he pulled away, unwilling to let her overwhelming joy at the contact make Henry uncomfortable and sully the moment. It took but a second before her emotions were in check and a warm smile was plastered across her face.

"I was trying to wait," Henry explained as he sat back on the mattress. "Emma told me to let you sleep. She said we'd have plenty of time before we have to meet everyone at Grandma and Grandpa's house, but I know how long you take to get ready and I just-"

"Emma?" Regina interrupted, not even going to touch the small shot at her morning routine. Did they all think she just _woke up_ looking like she did? Honestly.

Henry paled and pursed his lips, brow furrowed.

"Time for what?" she pressed.

His eyes wandered and the boy shrugged. "Christmas stuff."

"Henry," she warned.

He let out a bubbly laugh and his face split in a wide grin. "It's good stuff," he promised. "It's good stuff. But it's also a surprise."

"Yes, because I do so love surprises." She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, which only had him laughing harder.

"We have to hurry," he insisted, and slid off the mattress onto the floor, tugging her arm as he moved. "I wanna be able to make the most of it."

She really took him in then, her gaze wandering over the boy. He was already dressed. Jeans and a nice buttondown. His cheeks were slightly darkened, pink with cold perhaps. Likely cool to the touch. "Henry, have you been outside? How long have you been up?"

His smile never faltered. "Stop trying to ruin the surprise, Mom," he said. "Get ready to go. Then we can do breakfast."

"Sounds a little backwards," she muttered, but the words fell on deaf ears as Henry skirted out into the hall.

Groaning, Regina forced herself out of bed and shuffled over to the closet. For once, things were relatively peaceful in Storybrooke. It was to be the first holiday where everyone was actually in the same realm and not trying to murder one another. Spending the day with the Charming clan wasn't Regina's ideal plan for Christmas, but Henry was clearly over the moon and she was loathe to put up much of a fuss about anything that made him so happy.

Of course, some of his excitement clearly stemmed from whatever little scheme he and his birth mother had cooked up. Regina fought a wince. Hopefully whatever the surprise was had been more Henry's idea than Emma's. The woman had been near unbearable in her clumsy attempts to get back in Regina's good graces after the whole debacle with Marian.

Regina was fine in the end, she had simply needed space, time to process what had been taken before it had even really begun. Clearly, Emma hadn't understood that. She had pushed and pleaded and wallowed until Regina had forgiven her just to put an end to the whole affair. Things had just recently begun settling between them. She could only hope this wasn't some misguided effort to get rid of whatever residual guilt might linger for the Savior.

It was time for all of them to move on.

* * *

"Come on."

Regina was an uneasy mixture of joy and trepidation as Henry dragged her out the door after breakfast. On one hand, his energy and excitement was infectious. She had found herself grinning over her pancakes simply in response to his own disarming smile despite her nerves. On the other, Regina had never really been faced with a surprise that had ever gone in her favor. Not initially at least.

Still, she dutifully followed wherever her boy decided to lead. She always would.

"Good morning." Emma Swan stood in her driveway, thumbs in her jeans and feet apart under her arrogant smirk. "Way to let her sleep, kid." She looked like she might have been trying to pin Henry with a Disapproving Mom face but the effect was totally lost beneath wild curls and an over-sized knit cap.

The poofy topper was a little much for a grown woman if you asked Regina. In a cute, endearing sort of way.

"She won't care," Henry insisted. "Not when she sees." He tugged on Regina's hand, pulling her down the walkway towards his other mother and, Regina just noticed, the bug. Oh great. The surprise involved the bug. Joy. "Come on."

"Hold up." Emma moved to the back of her car. "I got the trunk open. We're probably gonna go right to the apartment after so we have to load up."

"No, come on," Henry whined, which was certainly something he had picked up in New York. "That's gonna take forever."

"Hen," Emma warned.

He huffed but nodded and released his grip on Regina. "Fine. All the boxes are in the living room. You gotta help." In a flash he had the door open and raced back inside.

Emma snorted. "Oh, sure. I gotta." She shook her head and moved up the walkway to follow Regina into the house. "Sorry if your morning has been hell," she murmured.

"A little overwhelming, perhaps," was all Regina said. She was too curious as to just what this surprise of theirs entailed to start with any negativity. It wouldn't do to scare the other woman off before the reveal.

"Jesus, kid," Emma said and she brushed by Regina, hands outstretched as Henry staggered into view, overburdened with far more presents than his small arms could conceivably carry.

"Thanks." He gave a grateful sigh as he dumped them into Emma's grasp. And, seemingly not registering her struggle to contain all the packages, he turned and darted back into the living room. "There's only a few more. I got the rest."

Regina chuckled at the alarm on Emma's face as she helped relieve as much of the burden as she could comfortably manage. "Careful, dear."

"I swear he was not this bad last year," Emma muttered through gritted teeth and then froze. She shot Regina an apologetic glance. "I mean, uh-"

"Don't worry about it." Regina brushed it off and headed back out to the car. Emma followed, still frowning no doubt.

"Sorry. I just-"

"Emma," Regina interrupted as she began depositing her haul into the trunk, "it happened. There's no need to pretend it didn't."

The words had Emma nodding, but Regina could tell she wasn't satisfied.

"It's just," Emma said and dropped the presents she held into the car as well, " I feel like I should tell you stuff. I want to. There's some stuff that he said or did and I just-" she rocked back on her heels and shoved her empty hands into her pockets, "I know you'd love it. But I also get that it hurts and, sometimes it just feels like this forbidden topic, you know?"

"I know." Regina busied herself with organizing the presents neatly, pointless as the task was. Anything to keep her eyes firmly _away_.

"I don't think it should be though. I don't want it to be." Emma shrugged beneath the borderline ridiculous bulk of her coat. "Now that everything's calmed down, I want to talk about it. I don't think it's right for you not to share in the life you gave us." She shifted, drove the toe of her boot into the gravel below them. "Do you think, maybe, that'd be something you'd like?"

Regina finally allowed their eyes to meet. She swallowed at the anxious sincerity rolling off of Emma. "Yes," she murmured, "I think maybe I would."

The reaction was instantaneous. Emma's shoulders sagged in relief and her lips pulled into a smile. "Right," she said. "Cool."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Yes, awesome," she mocked.

Emma's smile only grew. Henry appeared in the doorway and scuttled over to them, dumping the last of the presents into the trunk. He slammed it shut without a moment's delay. Regina winced at the squeal of rusted metal. There had to be laws against driving that thing, surely.

Henry raced to the passenger side door. "Let's go," he said, "let's go." The door was open, the seat pulled forward, and he was waving Regina inside.

"I don't think your mom really wants to climb in the back, kid," Emma called, eyeing the hem of the dress that fell past Regina's coat. Regina shifted under her gaze.

"I have to sit in front of her to make sure she keeps her eyes closed," Henry explained. He stared them down in challenge, clearly growing frustrated that they seemed to be trying to hinder his holiday cheer at every opportunity available.

"I'll keep my eyes closed," Regina promised.

"I have to make sure," Henry insisted.

Regina looked to Emma for help, but she had that infuriating smirk on her lips. The one that always seemed to spell trouble for Regina.

"I guess he has to be sure," she chuckled with a shrug. "Clamor on up there in the back, your majesty."

Regina groaned.

* * *

It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes before the bug stuttered to a stop. Henry had his door open in seconds and scrambled out gracelessly from what she could hear.

"Make sure she keeps her eyes closed," Henry cried over his shoulder. "It has to stay a surprise. And don't bring her in too fast."

She didn't have the heart to tell him that she knew exactly where they were. Regina wasn't even out of the car yet but she could smell it. The sweet grass, the hay, and yes, the manure.

Henry took off at a sprint. A clumsy one, judging by Emma's laughter. Regina waited patiently as she listened to the other woman shuffle about until finally the seat in front of her creaked in protest while it was shifted forward. She felt Emma's hand on her arm and let herself be guided up and out onto solid ground.

"Watch your head," Emma warned. "And your step."

She stood without incident and waited while Emma locked up behind her. At least there wasn't much snow on the ground. There had been a small flurry a handful of days ago but already the snow was melting and most of what remained was dirty slush. Walking wouldn't be too difficult.

"We're just gonna go ahead and, uh, start walking straight."

Regina obeyed and started moving forward. There was a tentative brush of steadying fingers against her coat. There and gone in an instant. She didn't need her eyes to see the uncertainty in the action. Regina slowed her pace and was rewarded with a hand more firmly planted on the small of her back.

"Sorry if this is making you nervous. Take it slow so you don't trip. I'm gonna go ahead and say the super secrecy wasn't my idea."

Regina smirked. "Oh, so now you're throwing your son under the bus?"

"Yup. I can't imagine why he thinks you closing your eyes is throwing you off the trail." Emma took a deep, dramatic sniff. "Nothing like the smell of shit on Christmas morning."

Regina laughed, then stumbled. Emma's hand was on her arm in a flash, gripping tight and holding her steady.

"Easy," she soothed.

Regina leaned into the touch and idly wondered if Snow had put any mistletoe up in the apartment.

No.

Too cliche. She could do better than that.

"You can open your eyes if you want, I won't tell."

"That would be breaking the rules."

Emma scoffed and Regina was certain she was rolling her eyes. They continued on for a bit until there was a clear difference in temperature to alert Regina that they were stepping into the barn. Emma kept a firm hold on her, guiding her through the stables. She heard the horses surrounding them snorting and pawing at the doors to their stalls, vying for attention from the human visitors. They never stopped though. Emma lead her past them all without pause.

"You ready?" Emma called, slowing their pace.

"Yep." Henry's voice returned, rather close and near bursting with his excitement. The sound alone had Regina beaming. The surprise didn't matter. Henry's enthusiasm was all the gift she'd ever need.

"Bring her here."

Emma tugged her forward a few paces. "Here?"

"Sure."

Emma tugged her left. "How about here?"

"There's good."

Emma tugged her right. "Here?"

"I said right there was fine."

Emma pulled her back. "Oh, so like right here?"

"Ma, I said-"

"How about like this?" And Emma dragged her forward again but this time Regina resisted, flashing her a mock scowl.

"Okay," Emma said, failing miserably at holding back her laughter, "Now you have to spin around three times and do ten jumping jacks."

"Ma, you're ruining it." There was that whining from Henry again. He _definitely_ hadn't learned that under Regina's roof.

"Okay, okay," Emma sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Now-" Henry started, and then he faltered suddenly. "Wait. Wait no. Hold on."

Regina listened to the quiet rustling Henry made, her brow furrowed in confusion. She had no idea what the hell was going on with these two but she was beginning to grow impatient. It had never been a virtue of hers.

"There," Henry said at last, sounding triumphant.

Emma chuckled. "You're such a dork."

Henry's frown was clear in his voice. "Have you seen _your_ hat?"

A snort escaped Regina as the image of that ridiculous pom pom entered her mind. Emma nudged her shoulder.

"My hat is just fine."

"All right," Henry declared. "Ready."

"Okay," Emma agreed.

There was a long silence. What on Earth were they up to now?

"Mom?"

"Oh," she exclaimed, cheeks warm. "Oh, sorry." She let her eyes flutter open.

"Surprise," Henry shouted, arms up.

At first he was all she could see, jumping up as he was, shouting, stealing all of her focus. Henry was wearing a face-splitting grin and a floppy, much too large Santa hat. And she beamed at him and his happiness before really taking in what she was looking at.

In the stall behind him, impossibly, Rocinante stood. It couldn't be true, and yet she didn't doubt it for a second. Without hesitation, she knew it was him, and like a truck the memory of her dream slammed into her, leaving her winded. She hissed in pain and brought her hands to her temples, absorbing the sudden rush of conflicting information as two sets of memories warred within her.

"You okay?" Emma's hand settled on her back, moving in slow soothing circles. "Gold said that might happen. Just try to relax and it should fade quickly. I have a bottle of water and some Advil in the car if you feel like you need it before we head to Snow's."

She was right. A few seconds and a handful of deep breaths and the blinding headache that had hit her so hard faded to a dull throb at the base of her skull. Regina steadied herself and straightened. She reached out and patted Henry on the shoulder to erase his worried frown before taking in her 'surprise' once more.

It was true. Impossible, but true. Rocinante stood before her, strong and noble as ever. So very much alive. There was only one thing Regina could think to say.

"You put a bow on him?"

Henry pouted. "I tried to get _him_ to wear the hat but he kept shaking it off so Emma put the bow on instead." He studied the horse. "I don't think he likes it much though."

As if to prove his claim Rocinante let out an aggravated huff and gave his head a shake. His long mane flicked this way and that, but the tacky red bow atop his head stayed firmly tied.

"He's been nothing but trouble," Emma complained, though her tone was all teasing fondness. "I don't care if he likes it. He'll wear it and he'll be happy about it."

Henry giggled. "She's just mad because she had a hard time getting him to come back."

"It was just a horrifying, magical, vortex he had to hop into with a complete stranger, I don't know what the big deal was. No reason to get all jumpy and start kicking."

"How-" Regina breathed, still utterly mystified. She took a careful step forward, then another, arm outstretched but never touching the animal, as though he might simply disappear.

"I wasn't sure what to get you so I asked the kid for a hand," Emma supplied, ever unhelpful. "We decided to go in on something together."

"But-" Regina tried again, her fingers so close to brushing the horse's nose but still not quite touching.

Beside her, Emma let out a heavy sigh. "If I could have done more," she murmured, "I would have."

And Regina's eyes slammed shut to combat the sudden rush of tears because she knew. She got it. She understood. If Emma could have given it all back she would have. She would have given her everything she'd lost.

Except giving anything more would have meant taking Henry, and that could never be.

"It's more than enough," Regina assured her, breathing slow and careful until she felt confident enough to open her eyes once more. "It's-" and Rocinante took the initiative, stepping forward to crane his neck over the door, pressing his nose against her waiting palm.

"Hello, old friend," she whispered.

Henry scooted up beside her, leaning against the wood to her left. "He's really nice," he offered, still more child than adult and always having to fill the silence around him. "We had to walk him in past the others and I think he already likes Rain."

Regina turned to smother him in the praise and thanks and affection he was fishing for. She held him tight and ran her fingers through his hair and told him what a kind, thoughtful boy he was and Henry held her just as fiercely, beaming all the while.

Emma backed off, gave them the space they craved. She only returned after a good long while. After Henry and Rocinante had been officially introduced, after Henry and Regina had chatted for quite some time about the past, and after the boy had eventually wandered off to visit with his gentle mare at the other end of the barn.

Only then did she sidle up beside Regina, elbows on the door, watching silently as the other woman worked to rid her horse of his undignified decoration.

"I can't believe you put a bow on him," Regina said through a scowl as her fingers worked through the knot.

Rocinante snorted in what could only be agreement.

"Tis the season," Emma drawled with a shrug. "I'm gonna have to wear whatever bird print sweater Snow knits me. He can deal."

Regina glanced over, caught her gaze. "Thank you," she offered, soft and unsure. "Really."

And it wasn't near enough because maybe Henry had gotten the idea from that godforsaken book but Emma had actually followed through and done the impossible for no other reason but her, and no one had ever come even close to doing anything remotely so wonderful for Regina without expectation of something of value in return.

Emma smiled. "Merry Christmas, Regina."

She huffed, scowled, rolled her eyes, and buried the color of her cheeks deep within her scarf. It took a moment, but she eventually _did_ mutter a very soft, very sarcastic, "Merry Christmas," in return, and Emma did nothing but stand there and grin like the idiot she was.

"So," the woman pressed eventually, eyes alight with mischief, "can I have my present now?"

Regina's stomach dropped.

"No."

Because how on earth were you supposed to hand somebody the gift card to the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique - Storybrooke's one and only clothing store of any note - that you had picked up after work two days before Christmas, when they had just traversed time to return your childhood pet from the dead?

Emma blinked, nose scrunched up in confusion. "What?"

Regina coughed, eyes on anything but her companion. "I don't want to give it to you."

"Seriously?" Emma sounded hurt, which made this a hell of a lot worse.

"Give me another week."

"Oh my god," Emma lit up with glee as realization struck, "you got me a shit gift."

"No," Regina defended weakly, "No, it was very thoughtful. I just, um-"

"Were still trying to passive aggressively get back at me about the whole Robin thing?" Emma prompted.

Maybe.

"No, don't be ridiculous. It's a great gift." Regina nodded and clasped her hands together. "I just, um, didn't bring it." She nodded again. "I forgot. Yes."

Emma looked happier than Regina ever remembered seeing her, which was just ridiculous. Honestly. "Okay, let's swing back by your house and pick it up," Her tone was infuriating. "We're not pressed for time so-"

"Wait," Regina cut in. "Don't waste the gas. I'll just stop by the station next Monday and drop it off."

"You got me a shit gift." Delighted. The woman was delighted.

"Emma-" Regina totally-didn't-whine.

"I can't believe it," Emma declared, voice pained, betrayed. Melodramatic. Too bad her overjoyed grin really ruined the dramatic effect. "I bet it was last minute too."

"It's been so hectic lately and I-"

"I had to grovel to Gold," Emma pressed. " _Gold_. He now has two of my arm hairs and the tip of my fingernail to do god knows what with." She paused, her lips pulled into a frown. "Actually if you guys find me dead tomorrow, I think I know who you should hit up with questions first." A shudder ran through her at the thought.

"Three things?" Regina tilted her head.

"Yeah well. One for the, uh, disguise-y magic? I dunno. There was a real name for it." Emma chuckled and scratched at her nose. "I wasn't listening. One was for the actual act of getting back there. And then the third was a protection charm, he called it. And I was like, why do I need this?"

She crossed her arms and gave Regina a pointed stare. "And he looks me straight in the eye and says that the queen liked to _snap necks_. So I said I'd just stay out of neck-snapping distance and then he said she could do it _with magic._ " She raised her eyebrows. "That's a thing? Seriously?"

Regina swallowed and her eyes flickered briefly to Henry across the barn, making sure he was out of earshot. "I mean, I could," she admitted softly. "I did." She winced. "I don't anymore?"

"Why didn't you ever just?" Emma raised a hand and flicked her wrist. "I mean that would have saved us _a lot_ of trouble, don't you think? We could have spent a day in Neverland instead of, like, weeks. Jesus."

"That's not really how it works."

"Yeah, sure." Emma rolled her eyes. "Okay. I gotta tell you I've never loved the whole magic-doesn't-have-rules-until-it-does thing." She shook her head. "Anyways. We got sidetracked. I think what we were establishing was that I got you an awesome gift, and you got me a shitty gift, which means I won Christmas."

Regina sighed. "I'm sorry, Emma. Just give me some time-"

"Woah, hey, stop," Emma said, brow furrowed and frowning. "Don't be sorry. You know I'm teasing, right? Henry and I were determined to make this year extra special to make up for the one we all missed." She placed a gentle hand on Regina's shoulder. "Really. You don't have to do anything in return."

She almost didn't do it. Really. Regina almost took pity on the other woman and let her be. But in the end, as usual, she couldn't help but cause a little trouble. Test the limits. Push the boundaries.

Regina leaned forward and into touch, tilted her head to the side, and drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm sure I could come up with a little something."

Emma reared back on her heels a bit and blinked. "Uh, w-what?"

"Moms, should we get going?" Both their gazes snapped to Henry. He stood by the entrance to the barn, eyes on the phone in his palm, no doubt studying the time. "Everyone is probably waiting."

Of course Regina wouldn't be allowed to enjoy the moment. And naturally Snow White would be the reason why. "Well," she drawled, "we mustn't keep the Charmings waiting."

"Be nice," Emma scolded through a chuckle, her temporary discomfort already forgotten. Damn. What a waste. Emma turned her head back towards Henry and called, "Lead us out, kid."

He took off for the car and, after giving Regina's shoulder a light squeeze, Emma dropped her hand and followed. Regina lingered behind, her attention back on Rocinante, who still stood against the stall door eager and willing as ever to remain by her side. That was possible now.

Regina jerked her head towards the departing woman. "What do you think?" She questioned softly.

Rocinante's eyes followed the action, but just as quickly refocused on her. She lifted her hands and he nickered as he pressed into them. In the distance Emma stumbled, likely over her own feet, and cursed. Regina side eyed the clumsy movement as the woman made to follow their son.

She chuckled. "We could do worse, huh?"

The horse let out a puff of air. She decided to take it as an agreeable sort of sound. "Yeah," she mused and leaned forward to press her forehead against his, just as she always had when she had been so very young all those years ago.

"I'll be back soon," Regina promised, and gave him one final pat before releasing the horse to jog off as gracefully as she could manage in her heels. She could be back. She _would_ be back. And he would be waiting.

When she caught up with Emma she said nothing, merely took a breath and slipped her hand into the other woman's. Emma jolted, stiffened, hesitated, then relaxed and gave the palm in her hand a gentle squeeze. She kept moving without a word, and that let Regina know everything she needed to.

They stepped out of the barn into the brisk air and bright winter sun. Henry was already in the car, safely tucked away and waiting patiently.

"So, not a fan of your mother's singing then?" Regina prompted as they moved across the lot towards the vehicle, a smirk on her lips.

Emma snickered. "I thought you'd enjoy that. Do I really need to bring up the whole karaoke night incident?"

Regina hummed her amusement at the memory. "Please don't." She straightened and sniffed. "Is _my_ meatloaf dry? I didn't know you were such a critic."

Emma let out a bark of laughter and tugged on Regina's hand, drawing her close as they kept pace together, side by side.

"Your meatloaf is perfect."


End file.
